A Test of Brotherhood
by AnneWithane
Summary: Steve Jamison left Sparta more than a decade ago, and has returned home with big trouble. Will his brother, now a cop, be able to figure out Steve's secret before his problems follow him all the way home?
1. Default Chapter

**A Test of Brotherhood**

_Summary: Steve Jamison left Sparta more than a decade ago, and has returned home with big trouble. Will his brother, now a cop, be able to figure out Steve's secret before his problems follow him all the way home?_

_Rating: Let's say PG for some mild profanity and adultish themes._

$BREAK$

Chapter 1:

Laura Jamison sipped slowly at the last dregs of stale restaurant coffee lingering at the bottom of her mug. It was a special treat to get to have lunch with her husband during the middle of a work week, and she savored her last few moments of peace before she had to leave his company and return to the barely-controlled chaos of her office.

Lonnie had just left the table to pick up the check with a promise that he'd be right back, and as she waited she entertained notions of calling in sick for the rest of the day, 'kidnapping' her husband, and spending a lazy afternoon by the lake. If only he weren't wrapped up in an investigation – nothing new – and she didn't have a trial looming – also nothing new. She sighed. One of these days they'd _make_ the time to take that long beach vacation they kept talking about. Just not this week.

Behind her, an unexpected outburst drew Laura's attention. "Lonnie! Is that really you? Look how _old_ you are!"

At the exclamation, Laura turned around to find the source of all the noise. Sparta was still a fairly small town, especially downtown during the day, and the boisterous voice booming out her husband's name was not one she'd heard before.

Lonnie stood facing the doorway as another man stood in front of him. Laura felt her eyes widen in shock as she realized the man's identity. There was only one person this could be - Lonnie's younger brother Steve. He was shorter and stockier, definitely heavier, than her long and lithe husband. Steve had the build of a football player next to his slender older brother. His hair was a little different, a shade darker and quite a bit curlier than Lonnie's, and his facial features seemed..._scrunched_ somehow, she thought, but there was no doubt to anyone with eyesight that these two men were related.

Though their features were similar, their expressions most certainly weren't. Steve grinned from ear to ear, showing off a nice set of even, artificially-white teeth, while Lonnie had schooled his features into careful neutrality. Compared with Lonnie's mask of cool impassivity, Steve's expression was that of hail-fellow-well-met.

As Laura craned her neck around to watch the two of them, she decided the look on her husband's face made her nervous. His demeanor was a bit _too_ cool considering the situation. She decided he looked about as likely to punch the younger man as he did to greet him. Laura quickly dropped a few dollars in tip money on the table, shoved her wallet back into her purse, and stood. With a quick tug on her skirt to straighten it, she hurried across the room to join them.

"You _must_ be Steve," she said, extending a hand good-naturedly. "I'm Laura."

Steve's grin broadened to seemingly impossible widths. "Well, hello, Laura," he said, grasping her hand a little too strongly. "It _is_ a pleasure. I never would have imagined my sober big brother could ever have such an attractive girlfriend."

Lonnie's expression darkened. "She's not my girlfriend, Steve. If you'd been anywhere near Sparta in the last ten years you'd know that."

Steve had been about to let her hand go, but kept it, and reached out to grab her left hand as well. Unabashedly he examined the bridal set on Laura's finger. "Nice. I've only seen one stone like that in my lifetime. This must have been Granny's, right? Well, it certainly looks lovely on you!"

Laura pulled her hands away as she felt blood rush into her cheeks. _'What do you say to a comment like that?'_ She glanced nervously back up at her husband. Before either of them could say a word, Laura's beeper went off. Relief swelled through her as she checked the number, silenced the device, and looked back at her husband. "Well, I've gotta run. I've been summoned."

Steve's expression clouded. "But I thought we could sit down and have a cup of coffee or something. Get to know each other."

Impulsively, she grabbed a business card out of the front pocket of her purse and handed it to him. "Maybe one day later this week?"

She felt Lonnie's eyes on her as she spoke – he didn't have to say a word for her to know that her spontaneous gesture must have surprised him.

Knowing Darnelle would page her every two minutes until she showed up in his office; she reached out to briefly squeeze her husband's hand before darting toward the door.

"I'll see you later," she called over her shoulder. As she stepped outside into the bright afternoon sun, she tried to focus on the rest of the day ahead, but knew she was going to be terribly distracted by Steve until she'd had a chance to satisfy her curiosity.

$BREAK$

Lonnie pushed open the swinging gate and headed back toward the office without sparing so much as a glance toward Sweet and LuAnn as they sat near the radio desk. He wondered if perhaps his mind was playing some kind of strange trick on him. _'Was that really Steve, after all these years? What could he possibly be back in Sparta for now?'_

Preoccupied as he was, he didn't miss the, "Uh-oh," issued by Sweet.

Lonnie pretended he didn't hear a thing and went straight to the office, settling himself behind his desk as he tried to focus on the afternoon's work. He realized that not greeting his fellow officers had been a mistake when first Sweet, then LuAnn, appeared in the doorway.

Willson Sweet had only been back with the Sparta Police Department a few months, and while Lonnie was thrilled his friend once again felt comfortable enough in Sparta to rejoin the force and become Sparta's second detective, it was during moments like this when Lonnie remembered that it was far easier to keep one's thoughts private when close friends _weren't_ around. He studiously ignored his friend as Sweet sauntered into the office and propped himself against the old writing desk next to the door.

"Do I detect the honeymoon is _finally_ over?" Sweet needled.

"I don't know what you're talkin' about, you old busy body," Lonnie grumped, refusing to look up from the files spread across his blotter.

"I'm not sure I do either, Sweet," LuAnn said skeptically.

"Note," Sweet began, "the subject's unusual post-lunch behavior. Now, normally, when he's able to slip away to have lunch with a particularly tall, leggy red-head we know, he returns with a certain...shall we say, _bounce_ in his step. Today, however, he's seems..." Sweet trailed off, pretending to search for the right word.

Lonnie sighed, finally looking up at the two of them. "Are you havin' fun?"

"Cranky?" LuAnn supplied.

"I was gonna say 'annoyed,' but cranky works," Sweet nodded agreeably. "And so I come back to my original question..."

"Is the honeymoon over?" LuAnn finished.

"It _is_ an interesting question. If for no other reason than if the answer is 'yes' you and I'll both know we're gonna be livin' hard around here for a while."

Lonnie groaned. If he didn't stop Sweet now, there was no telling what tangent his friend would take off on next. "If you two're done with your Masterpiece Theatre over there, there just might be some work around here for you to do. If you have a hard time findin' any, I'm sure I can help..."

Sweet held up a hand in surrender, but his grin hadn't entirely disappeared. "Seriously, man, what's goin' on? You were in a better mood when you left. Is everything okay?"

Lonnie sighed again, too preoccupied to hide the truth from someone who knew him as well as Sweet did. "Guess who walked into the restaurant as we were gettin' ready to leave?"

"Preston Donner?" Sweet guessed.

Lonnie laughed in spite of himself. "No, but that's a good guess. The man does annoy me. Actually it was Steve."

"Steve?" Sweet and LuAnn questioned simultaneously.

"Steve _Jamison,"_ Lonnie said, giving Sweet a meaningful look.

Sweet's jaw dropped. LuAnn clearly didn't understand, but Sweet did.

"No way!" Sweet exclaimed. "Your _brother?_ Wow."

Lonnie quirked an eyebrow toward the ceiling. "Seems he just _happened_ to walk into the restaurant we were eatin' at..."

Sweet crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head. "Of all the gin joints in all the world..."

_"Somethin'_ like that."

LuAnn waved a hand to attract their attention before interrupting. "Whoa. Wait a minute. I didn't even know you _had_ a brother."

Lonnie nodded. "Exactly. I haven't talked to him in twelve years. I haven't seen him in almost seventeen. He didn't stay in Sparta ten minutes after we buried Mama. So I gotta wonder what he's doin' here now."

Before he could continue, Lonnie's phone rang. He glanced at the display panel and grinned as he recognized the number. This was a call he had expected. "Hang on a second, guys," he said before greeting his caller. "Hey."

_"Hi, handsome. I know you don't wanna talk about it right now, but I just wanted to check on you. You fine?"_

The note of gentle concern in his wife's voice soothed some of the chagrin he'd felt since Steve walked into the restaurant. "Yeah," he answered softly. "Thanks."

_"What do you think he wants?"_

"No clue," Lonnie snorted. Pausing a moment to consider the possible implications Steve's return to Sparta could have, he sighed. "I guess I _might_ be willin' to find out. Or maybe not. I don't know yet."

In the brief second of silence that followed his comment, his mind's eye could perfectly picture the wry quirk of her eyebrow as she listened to that remark_. "Well, he really can't ask for more than that after all this time. See you later?"_

"Yep," Lonnie answered. He returned the receiver to its cradle just as Chief Forbes stepped into the office.

Forbes looked at each of them in turn before noting, "You guys look like you're up to somethin'. Did someone win the lottery?"

"No, sir," LuAnn assured him as she slipped behind him and headed back to the radio desk. "If I'd won the lottery, you would _not_ be lookin' at my face right now."

Lonnie glared pointedly at Sweet as the Chief asked, "Is there somethin' goin' on I should know about?"

Sweet held up a hand again, this time as if to reassure Lonnie he'd keep his mouth shut. "No, sir," Sweet echoed before turning to follow LuAnn out the door.

Forbes looked back over his shoulder, then to Lonnie, before shaking his head. "Ooookay," he said in that tone that indicated he knew they were lying to him and didn't really want to know what about in this instance. As he crossed toward his desk, Forbes was quick to get back to business.

"So, Detective," Forbes began. "Bubba tells me we may be closin' in on our suspect in the Elizabeth Hodges case. What's the latest?"

Lonnie was only too glad to have some help focusing on work so he could push the uncomfortable wrinkle that had arisen in his personal life out of his mind for the rest of the afternoon.

$BREAK$

_'Quaint,'_ Steve thought to himself as he stood outside the library surveying Main Street. _'This is just how I remember it. Sparta is still as sweet and quaint as it ever was.'_

In Steve's book, the words _sweet_ and _quaint_ had never been accolades. An afternoon's worth of research had answered some of his questions, but the others would have to be answered at City Hall. The two-year old obituary told him that his Aunt Cordelia died in a night club _'of all places,'_ during a Ches Collins show. _'The old bird may have been more fun than I gave her credit for.'_

Steve removed the photo-copied obituary he'd secured at the library from his pocket and looked at it again. Lonnie was listed among the survivors, but he was not. He didn't suppose that surprised him very much, and he certainly wasn't offended. It wasn't the obituary that mattered to him. What mattered was the money_. 'Now that I know where it is, how can I get at it?'_

Steve raised a hand to smooth his wind-ruffled hair before heading down the block to the courthouse. What did surprise him was that more than a decade's absence from Sparta hadn't dimmed his memory of the place. Parts of town showed significant growth, but the area surrounding the town square seemed frozen in time.

Even the people seemed the same. The very same librarian that had served the community when he and Lonnie were young – Mrs. Edwin Robinson – was still behind the library counter, collecting late fines and giving out library cards to the town's children. Steve supposed that whatever chemicals publishers used to preserve the pages must be doing a pretty good job of preserving Mrs. Robinson too.

It had surprised him only a little that the old woman placed him after a few minutes, automatically referring to him as 'Stevie' – his mother's nickname for him. When he'd asked for a copy of his "Auntie Cora's" obituary, Mrs. Robinson had patted his hand sympathetically, gently admonished him for staying away from home for so long, and happily helped him find what he needed. She'd also been only too willing to discuss the details of the funeral of Sparta's grand dame, and casually mentioned the fact that Lonnie had inherited substantial wealth and property with his aunt's passing.

It had taken every scrap of self-control he had not to sputter at that piece of news, but the old woman had hardly seemed to notice. She went on to tell him that since Cordelia Woodlin's death, Lonnie hadn't touched any of his inheritance.

Mrs. Robinson claimed that Lonnie had been unable to decide what to do with the wealth left to him – _"Comin' from a modest upbringin' like y'all did an' all..."_ – and was considering selling everything. However, since he'd been unable to decide what to do with the proceeds even if he did find a buyer, Lonnie had so far left everything just as it was before the grand lady passed.

With this interesting bit of information in mind, Steve made his way toward the courthouse. He wanted to see a copy of Cordelia's will so he'd know exactly how the property and other assets had been distributed.

Steve would have preferred that Grant's family or someone else had inherited the bulk of Cordelia's estate. If that were the case, it would be easier for him to do what he had to than if he had to take the money he needed from his own brother. But he also knew his options were limited. It would only be a matter of time before his past caught up with him, and he planned to be long gone from Sparta before that happened. He didn't want to hurt Lonnie – he truly didn't – regardless of however stormy their relationship had been when they were children. But if it came down to it, his instinct for self-preservation would take over. He was certain of that much.

Steve jogged up the front steps of the city courthouse and followed the small sign pointing downstairs toward the Office of Records. The office was much like he'd have expected for an historical building in a town like Sparta - small and worn. A smallish woman with mousy brown hair and thick glasses stood behind the counter arguing with a large, heavy-set man in a green John Deere cap as Steve entered the outer office.

"I'm sorry, Sir, but there's just nothin' more I can do for you today. I told you – a deed that old isn't going to be in this office. It's gonna be over at the warehouse."

"Fine! Just tell me who I need to speak to at the warehouse and I'll go over there and take care of it myself."

"You can't take care of it yourself," the clerk said stubbornly. "The building's locked up tight. Someone from our office will have to make arrangements to go over there and find it. You can call back in a few weeks to see if we've been able to get it yet."

"Look, lady," the man huffed. "I need a copy of that deed right away to settle a dispute over Mama's farm. I've got to have it right now. This is important!"

As the man's volume rose, so did the red color in his cheeks and neck, and Steve watched as the much smaller woman flinched backward. He thought she stood her ground admirably under the circumstances.

"Well, sir, if your mother's been gone as many years as you say she has, and you've been able to make it this long without a copy of that deed, I reckon you'll be able to manage a few more weeks. Please come back around the end of the month and we may have something for you by then."

Steve hid the smirk that rose to his lips as the man turned around, cast a challenging glare in Steve's general direction, and stomped out of the office. Steve turned back toward the woman behind the counter and was about to speak just as a tall, elegant woman with ebony skin and silver hair stepped around the corner into the records office.

"Melanie," the woman said from her spot by the door. "Could you step into my office for a minute, please?"

"Yes, Mrs. Weeks," the clerk said as she hurried around the edge of the counter. "Excuse me just one moment," she said to Steve. "I'll be right back."

He nodded, taking a seat on the bench just inside the door as the woman hurried by. He counted to three, stood up quickly, and peered around the corner out into the hallway. The clerk was on the heels of the older woman, hands waving frantically as she tried to explain the altercation she'd just had.

Steve knew how to make the most of an opportunity when it presented itself. Quickly he sneaked behind the counter and looked around. The area in front of him seemed to be largely administrative. The records must be behind the door to his right.

Taking another quick look over his shoulder, he ducked through the door and closed it softly behind him. As he'd hoped, the filing cabinets in the musty room were clearly labeled. He made his way to the "Wills" section and found the drawer marked "W" and gave it a tug. The drawer resisted for just a second before creaking and allowing him to pull it open.

Steve's sharp eyes scanned the names, quickly finding the one he wanted – _Woodlin, Cordelia Simmons._ He snatched the file from the drawer and started toward the copy machine in the corner.

Before Steve had time to copy the first page, he heard the faint clicking of high-heeled shoes drawing near. As he gave the file drawer a shove with his foot, he tucked the manila folder in the top of his pants and buttoned his blazer over it. He raced out of the filing room, closed the door quietly behind him, and ducked around the counter as the sound of Mousy Melanie's heels drew closer.

By the time Melanie came back through the doorway, Steve had reclaimed his seat on the bench and pretended to wait with his hands folded patiently in front of him.

She smiled at him apologetically before crossing to her post behind the counter. "I'm awful sorry about that. What can I help you with today?"

Steve favored her with his most winning smile. "Oh I understand, ma'am. That wasn't your fault. Some folks just ain't neighborly, are they?"

Her cheeks colored slightly as she ducked her head in embarrassment. "No, I suppose they're not."

"Well," Steve assured her as he stood up and closed the distance between himself and the counter. He leaned toward her casually. "I just have one little question for you today."

"Oh, alright," she said. "Ask anything you like."

Flashing his dimpled smile once more, he leaned a littler farther over the counter and lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Do I need a court order to obtain a copy of a will if I want to contest the distribution of property therein?"

The clerk looked shocked that after the last encounter, this was such a simple question for her to answer. "Yes. You do."

Steve nodded gravely, pretending that this was heavy news. "Why, thank you kindly, ma'am. You've been most helpful. Y'all have a nice day now."

As Steve made his way back toward the staircase, he paused to stop and wink at the clerk over his shoulder. He had to bite his tongue to keep from snickering at the flush that sprang to the woman's cheeks.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

Steve climbed the stairs and was headed for the street until he caught the name _Jamison, Laura_ on the office directory listing by the double front doors. Grinning to himself, he climbed the stairs to the DA's second-floor offices. _'The lovely Laura,'_ he thought. _'A lawyer. Hmm. I wonder if she's more talkative away from her husband.'_

Steve was delighted to see Laura walking down the hallway facing him as he reached the top of the stairwell. He paused, taking a moment to watch her approach. She was even more striking at second glance than she was at first – auburn hair, bright blue eyes, porcelain skin, knock-out figure. Her long limbs moved with silky grace – it was through her fluid stride and the subtle sway of her hips that he could see the passion and ease that lay beneath her crisply professional appearance.

_'Nice choice, Lonnie,'_ Steve thought appreciatively.

As he was about to call out to her, Laura glanced in his direction and abruptly halted. "Steve," she said, surprise coloring her voice. "Fancy meeting you here."

"Hello again," Steve greeted congenially. "I was in the neighborhood and I saw your name on the directory downstairs. I thought I'd stop by for a second to say hello. I hope I'm not disturbing you."

She smiled brightly at him as she gestured in the direction of her office. "I think I can squeeze in a moment for my brother-in-law."

Steve gave her a smile designed to disarm. "I can't believe I have an in-law. Wow."

Her laugh was warm and throaty, bubbling through the air as she led him into the DA's suite. Steve was so focused on his brother's wife that he barely noticed two women sitting in the reception area as he followed Laura into her sunny office – a room with warm appointments and breezy window sheers that seemed to fit her personality perfectly. He settled himself into a guest chair as she made her way behind her desk and took her seat.

Steve was distinctly aware of the silky whisper coming from behind Laura's desk as she crossed one stocking-clad leg over the other. "Yes, well..." he stuttered as he tried to force his mind away from images of her long, toned legs and creamy skin.

She gave him an appraising look as she grinned at him. "Well...what? You came to see me, remember?"

"I did," he agreed, forcing himself to focus on getting what he wanted from her. He knew that Lonnie was going to be hard to persuade, and hoped that working the female angle might help him.

"What can I do for you?" she prompted.

Steve shrugged, sliding a finger beneath the collar of his shirt uncomfortably. "I guess I was hoping you could speak to Lonnie for me."

Laura shifted her weight in her chair, her eyes riveted to his face. "Steve," she began, pausing to take a breath and tuck a stray wisp of scarlet hair behind her left ear. "I'm not sure it's appropriate for me to interfere in your relationship with your brother, whatever it may or may not be at this point."

"Laura," he implored as he held up a hand, "please just hear me out before you make up your mind."

She nodded, gesturing for him to continue as she leaned back in her chair.

"I'm thirty-two now," he began. "I'm not the same person I was when our mother died. I was a teenager then. My relationship with my older brother was never easy. When we were kids, we felt our father's death very differently, and we reacted to our mother's desolation very differently. Lonnie always empathized with Mama better than I did. Mostly what I saw was a very sad woman with two kids, and part of me was never able to understand what Mama went through. She was always so depressed. I never knew her any other way. When I was a kid I didn't realize that it was Daddy's death, and not the two of us, that made her so sad."

As he talked, Steve found it more difficult than he expected to tell his story. He allowed his discomfort to propel him out of his chair and toward the window before he continued.

He held back the sheer white curtain so he could watch people come and go on the street below, and for the first time really remembered what it had been like to _live_ in Sparta all those years ago. The feeling was even more unpleasant than he'd remembered. He shoved it down and moved on.

"I don't know if he's told you; but Mama was just destroyed after Daddy died, and even _before,_ to tell you the truth. He left us to enlist in the army so he could support his family – his wife and two little boys – and died in a basic training accident before Mama could even come to terms with his being gone. She never recovered. When we buried her, I was convinced that Lonnie was going to leave me behind too, just like Mama and Daddy had done. We'd always been so different, and he was eighteen already. I was barely sixteen. I was _sure_ he was going to take off for some place exotic and leave me in foster care."

When Steve turned to glance at Laura over his shoulder, he could tell she was trying to listen non-judgmentally; but the implication that her husband might have at one point abandoned Steve, who was little more than a child at the time, clearly rankled her. She fidgeted with the hem of her twin set as she spoke. "I'm sure it must have been tough for you, and I don't know what it's like to be without a mother. But the last thing the Lonnie _I_ know would do is leave someone close to him behind."

Realizing he'd have to proceed cautiously, he chose his next words with care. "Maybe at thirty-two I can understand that, but at sixteen, I didn't know what I was doing. Our father had died years ago, our mother was suddenly dead, and the older brother who was my only remaining family -and who often only _tolerated_ me - was now head of the household. What do you think I thought my options were back then?"

Laura nodded begrudgingly. "I don't know, Steve. But however he might have felt at eighteen, Lonnie's not like that now. I know that he stood at a real crossroads at one point, but that was a long time before I ever met him."

"We both came to that fork in the road," Steve answered, pleased that she was receptive to what he had to say. He crossed back toward the desk and resumed his seat in order to be closer to her. "I was just sure that Lonnie was going to abandon me too, and decided to bolt before he could do it."

"I can't say honestly that I can empathize with your situation, Steve, but I can sympathize. I'm sorry."

He shrugged, flashing his perfect teeth as he grinned sheepishly at her. "It doesn't matter. That was all a long time ago, but I wanted you to know where I was coming from."

"Duly noted. And now? After so many years? Obviously you've established a life for yourself somewhere else. What is it you want from Lonnie at this point?"

The appraising look was back in her keen eyes, Steve noted. Clearly this woman was very protective of her husband, and for just a moment, part of him envied Lonnie his new life. "It took me a long time to realize what I'd left behind when I ran away. Lonnie's all the family I have left. I want to know him as well now as I did when we were kids. I want to come home." He paused. "Do you have any siblings?"

Laura smiled and nodded. "One. A brother."

Steve took mental note of this information, thinking he might be able to use it later on. "Are you close?"

"We didn't used to be. But as we've gotten older, we've become much closer."

"And are your parents still living?"

She nodded again, looking almost guilty.

Her expression of near-guilt told Steve he truly was prompting the sense of sympathy he wanted. He smiled in effort to put her at ease. "Well then, you're very lucky. And I'm happy for you. I didn't always understand that family's important. The old cliché that 'blood is thicker than water' didn't always mean anything to me; but it does now."

"Why now, if you don't mind my asking?" Her head tilted to one side a bit as she watched him.

"Maybe simply because I'm over 30," he shrugged again as he steepled his fingers together in front of his belt buckle. "I'm getting older and thinking seriously about settling down and raising a family for the first time. Maybe because I've been to a lot of different countries since I left Sparta, and I've seen a lot of things. But no matter how far I traveled, I finally realized that the people I always really _noticed_ were people out and about with their families. Parents with young children. Siblings playing together during an afternoon in the park. And even though it might not make much sense now after what I've already told you, Lonnie and I weren't always adversaries. Our relationship was always stormy, but when we were little kids, we actually got along _most_ of the time. The trouble didn't start until Dad left for Texas."

"Hey, that sets you apart from my brother and me. We didn't get along until we were both in college."

Steve grinned at her before allowing his expression to grow wistful again. "I miss him. As I've said, it took me a long time to realize that family's important, and Lonnie _is_ my family. I just want the chance to reconnect with him."

Laura's bright eyes grew warm with gentle concern. "For what it's worth, I think he's missed you. I think he was confused - and more than a little hurt - by your disappearing act."

"He's obviously come through it very well. He didn't flinch when he got to the proverbial fork in the road after Mama died."

"Well, I know he had a rough time of it for a while, but I think it did him a world of good to find the police force. I think his job did a lot for him."

Steve thought perhaps she wasn't giving herself enough credit, and said so. "I think _you_ did a lot for him."

She shook her head. "What do you mean? You'd been gone for ages before I ever met him."

"I expected a right hook to the jaw, not a handshake, when I saw him for the first time after all these years," Steve chuckled. "He's mellowed, and he wouldn't have if he hadn't found what he was looking for all that time."

Laura gave him an _'all-right, wise guy'_ expression. "And _what_ was he lookin' for, Dr. Steve?"

Steve chuckled. "The same thing I went all the way to Europe, Asia and Africa looking for - family. Obviously he's found that in you."

Her expression grew soft and wistful. Clearly this woman loved his brother very much, of that Steve was certain.

"Maybe it was maturity he found. No one can be a teenager forever," she said quietly.

Steve shook his head adamantly. "I don't think so. I saw the way he looks at you. My brother adores you."

A becoming shade of pink crept into Laura's cheeks as she shifted her weight in her chair again. She tucked one long leg beneath her as she leaned forward across her desk. "Listen, Steve. I really do believe that blood is thicker. And, though I may be a bit prejudiced, I don't think you'll ever find a finer person anywhere than your brother. It took me about five minutes to fall in love with him after I met him, and I've been crazy about him ever since. I think he's missed his family - meaning _you_ - and I'd love to facilitate your reacquaintance however I can. But I can't promise you anything. You know that, right?"

Steve grinned hugely, finding himself strangely touched by her compassion and quite pleased that the conversation had gone so well. "Thank you, Laura. I want to prove to him that it's time for me to come home. I know it won't be easy. Lonnie's always been tough."

"Yes he is. He's very tough. But underneath it all he has a sensitive heart. Just don't tell him I told you that," she laughed. "He cares very deeply about the people and things that are important to him. I know that on some level he'd like to know you again. And I'd like to know you too."

"Thank you. Thank you," Steve said as he rose from his chair and extended a hand to her. She took it, and he gripped her hand with both of his earnestly. _'Time for me to go,'_ he thought. "Listen, I'll get out of your way now and let you get back to work. If you need to reach me, I'll be staying at the Heart of Sparta Motel for the time being."

Laura seemed to pause for a moment as she got to her feet, her expression suggesting she was furiously mulling over an idea that had just occurred to her. "Steve," she said impulsively, "why don't you come to the house for dinner tonight? We'll cook some pasta and hang out – get to know each other a bit."

'_This couldn't be going better,'_ Steve thought to himself as he answered. "That sounds great! Thank you. What time should I be there?"

"How does eight o'clock sound? I'll call the motel with directions later this afternoon."

"Sounds perfect. I'll bring the wine. I'm looking forward to it."

"Let me walk you to the door," she said as crossed back toward the doorway.

Steve turned, but paused long enough so that he could watch her walk in front of him. As she arrived at the door he made a big show of hurrying out, not wanting to be thought of as an interruption. The conversation had gone even better than he'd planned – now all he had to do was be back at the Heart of Sparta before eight.

Steve was so focused on his intentions that he didn't notice the woman rushing into Laura's office until he collided with her.

$BREAK$

Austin shot across the DA's outer office at full-speed, eager to relate the conversation she'd just had to Laura. They'd been working up further charges against a man who had a history of getting drunk and hitting his wife and children. Adam Ellis had been recently arrested for driving while intoxicated – his third arrest for that charge in as many years – and the DA's office wanted badly to get his wife Amy to testify about his domestic abuse in court. Until now, Mrs. Ellis had been afraid to speak out against her husband publicly, but had called Austin to tell her she'd experienced a change of heart.

Austin was convinced that they were now going to be able to get enough on Ellis to put him in jail long enough for Amy to divorce him and begin to move on with her life. For Amy's sake, and that of her three children, Austin and Laura had been working together to change Amy's mind for months. Austin couldn't wait share her good news.

As she barreled through Laura's doorway, Austin ran straight into a man coming out of Laura's office. Austin felt her cheeks redden as she stepped back, trying to ignore the snicker coming from Betty's desk.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I wasn't watching where I was going," Austin apologized as she glanced at the face of the man who placed a steadying hand on her elbow.

Something about him set Austin on edge immediately. Whether it was the too-perfect hairstyle, or the oily smile he gave her, she wasn't sure. Whoever this was, he reminded her of the corporate sharks-in-training she'd loathed during her tenure at Harvard. Obviously, she hadn't left them all behind when she moved back to Sparta.

Austin tried to pull her elbow away as inconspicuously as possible as Laura joined them at the door.

Before either of the women could speak, the stranger looked back and forth between the two of them. "Wow. You two have _got_ to be sisters. Do you work here too?" he asked Austin.

"Yes," Austin answered warily, wondering why this person she'd never seen before felt comfortable enough with her to make such a comment.

Laura grinned at her. "Steve, this is Austin Skinner, one of our top ADAs. She's a dear friend, and the wife of one of Lonnie's coworkers. Austin, this is Steve Jamison, Lonnie's younger brother."

Austin felt her jaw start to drop, hastening to compose her features as she accepted the handshake Steve offered. "Nice to meet you, Steve," she said with all the cordiality she could muster, though knowing he was Lonnie's brother didn't shake the bad vibe she got from him. Now that she looked more closely, however, she definitely noticed the family resemblance.

"The pleasure's all mine, Austin," he said as he tried - unsuccessfully - to look her up and down without her notice. "The women have definitely gotten better looking since the last time I was in Sparta. That's good to know. There may just be hope for this town after all."

"Did you know Bubba Skinner while you were growin' up here, Steve?" Laura asked, seemingly making an effort to cover his gauche behavior as best she could.

Steve stopped to think for a moment before nodding his head. "Oh yeah, the big guy. Played for Bama. I remember him."

"Yeah," Austin said coolly, _sure_ now that she wasn't going to like this person. "The _really_ big guy."

Her sarcasm seemed to sail right over Steve's head. Grinning hugely, he turned back to Laura. "It was great to see you again, Laura. I'll see you tonight."

"Until then," Laura nodded, her eyes following Steve's rapidly retreating back as he crossed through the outer office and disappeared down the hall.

Austin perched one hand on her hip and turned toward her friend. "Two things. One: Lonnie has a _brother?_ Two: Why is Lonnie's brother so _creepifying?"_

Laura's chuckle was joined by Betty's, who as usual couldn't resist the urge to put in her own two cents. "I'm with Austin. I'm not sure I like him. That husband of yours, Missy, got _all_ the class in that family."

"Type something, would ya?" Laura snarked good-naturedly in Betty's direction, before stepping back into her office and holding the door for Austin.

Austin made herself comfortable in one of the guest chairs as Laura closed the door behind them before crossing behind her desk and curling one long leg underneath her as she sat.

"So, what's this all about?" Austin asked, momentarily diverted from her original reason for walking over. "I didn't even know Lonnie had a brother."

Laura's expression was thoughtful. "I'm not sure what this is about yet. I knew Lonnie had a younger brother, but he left town years ago and never came back. When we got married, Lonnie didn't even know where to send the invitation. It's been _that_ long since they talked, and, well..." she paused as she picked up a pen and began toying with the cap. She sighed, "My first instinct is that he's a bit on the slick side; but I'm trying to keep an open mind. Do you know who he really reminds me of, more so than he reminds me of his brother?"

Austin shook her head. "No. Who?"

"Raoul Woodlin."

Austin tipped her head to one side as she tried to place the name. "You mean the blond, at the engineering company?"

Laura nodded. "They're all cousins."

Austin made a face. "Ew. Now _he's_ creepy. That's one hell of a slimy gene runnin' in that family."

Laura laughed. "Yeah. I agree with Betty, though. I got lucky. Lonnie's a class act."

"Oh, he's a catch, all right," Austin agreed, before giving in to the urge to tease her friend. "But what happens when you guys start passin' on all those creepy genes to your kids?"

Laura grinned, strengthening her best Southern Belle accent. "They'll have his good looks an' my sense a'style."

Austin chuckled at her friend's spot-on Julia Roberts' impression. "Alright, Shelby."

"Seriously, though," Laura continued, "I'm not sure what's goin' on yet, but I'm tryin' to think positively. Steve certainly talks a good game."

Austin snorted. "Which means nothing. Talk is just that – _talk."_

Her friend's expression grew contemplative once more. "I agree. We'll see what happens if Steve hangs around for a little while." Laura looked like she wanted to continue, but stopped herself, looking down at her hands as if something sad had occurred to her.

Austin gave her a minute, but when Laura showed no signs of continuing her line of thought, decided to prompt her. "What? There's something else."

Laura sighed again before looking back up. "It's just that I've seen the way Lonnie looks at all of us when we join my family for holidays and such. You know that moment that happens when people who've known each other forever get together? Someone starts telling all the same old stories yet again – all those stories that are hilarious to those who were there at the time and absolutely idiotic to anyone outside the circle?"

Austin nodded.

"Well, my family loves its old stories as much as any family does, and inevitably, someone'll start the telling. And there's usually this little moment – I don't think anyone catches it but me – where Lonnie seems to pull himself back a little bit. It's like he's thinkin' about the stories he doesn't have to share with his own family, and it makes him sad. He never really wants to talk about it, but I think he misses his family. And as open as my family has always been with him, it's not the same. I think he misses having the kind of warm, extended family I come from. This may be a chance for him to reconnect with his brother. And just maybe, if Steve means what he says and sticks around, they'll be able to build the kind of relationship they didn't have when they were younger."

Laura rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. "Lord knows my brother and I hated each other when we were kids, but we're so close now. I can't imagine how I'd feel if Paul disappeared and it was ten years since I'd talked to him."

Austin smiled warmly at the big-hearted woman sitting across from her. "I feel the same way about Beau. You know what I think?"

Laura shook her head. "What?"

"I think you're not the only one who got lucky when you two got together. And I also think that, one of these days, if you're not careful, that big, mushy heart of yours is gonna be your undoing."

It was Laura's turn to make a face. "Well, not everyone can be suspicious _all_ the time."

Austin smiled smugly. "I'm not suspicious _all_ the time. Just when called for. But," she said as she sat up straighter and got back to business. "That's not what I came in here to talk to you about." Austin paused a moment for dramatic effect before making her big announcement. "Amy Ellis has _finally_ seen the light of day."

Laura's smile lit her whole face as she tossed her pen up the air and let out a little celebratory whoop. "That's terrific! And it's about damn time. Tell me everything!"

Before Austin could launch into the details, Betty opened the door and peered in at them. "Darnelle wants you two. Right now."

"What's up?" Laura asked as they both rose and crossed toward the door.

"Don't know," Betty shook her head. "He was on the phone, and then he hung up, and then he threw somethin' against the wall there, and then he stuck his head out the door just long enough to yell for 'the Doublemint Twins.'"

Austin rolled her eyes. They always had an interesting time of it when the boss took on one of his _moods._ "Oh, great. This should be fun."

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

Lonnie stood with one shoulder propped against the doorway separating the dining room from the kitchen. Sullenly, he played with the top of his beer bottle, fighting his annoyance at the chummy rapport that seemed to have developed instantly between his wife and his younger brother. While his wife was usually warm and gracious, she was also a polished actress –a talent he'd seen time and again in front of witnesses, juries, and opposing counsel.

At this moment, even _he_ couldn't tell if Laura was trying to make Steve feel welcome, compensate for Lonnie's own reticence, or if she was genuinely charmed by Steve's obvious efforts to ingratiate himself with her as they laughed and joked over dinner preparations. Lonnie sulked in the corner and took in the scene before him, refusing to join in the banter even when his wife tried to gently coax a smile to his face.

Lonnie had watched Steve pull this routine with women of all ages time and again since the two of them were kids. The fact that it might be working on his own wife grated on Lonnie's last good nerve of the day.

_'I don't know why she felt like she had to have this little dinner party tonight,'_ he thought grumpily to himself, taking a last slug off his beer before crossing toward the refrigerator for another.

Laura breezed back into the room as Lonnie tossed his empty bottle into the recycling bin and twisted the cap off the next.

"Honey, would you hand me the zucchini, please?" she asked, giving him a dazzling smile.

Lonnie scowled as he reached back into the refrigerator and grabbed the plastic bag she wanted. As he handed it to her, she grabbed his hand for a moment, giving his fingers a warm squeeze before turning to her cutting board.

"Here, Laura, let _me_ help you with that," Steve insisted as he reached out to take the knife from her hand. "I'm no good with pasta," he said affably, as Laura handed over the knife and moved toward the boiling pot on the stove. "But I'm great with vegetables. I can slice and dice with the best of 'em."

"Yeah, you've always been known for your _culinary_ prowess," Lonnie muttered under his breath as he leaned back against the refrigerator and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Hmm?" Steve asked innocently, glancing at Lonnie over his shoulder as he continued to _'slice and dice.' _Lonnie glanced at his wife, who studiously stared at her boiling pasta and refused to meet his gaze. He could tell, however, by the tightly bunched jaw muscle that twitched beneath her porcelain skin that she'd heard his comment quite clearly – and was not amused.

Lonnie decided that picking the fight he wanted with Steve at this moment was not worth facing Laura's wrath later. "I said, 'Do you want another beer?'"

Steve grinned brightly before returning to his vegetables. "Yeah, that'd be great. Thanks, bro!"

Lonnie felt the muscles in his own jaw begin to spasm as he pulled another bottle from the fridge, unscrewed the cap, and placed it on the counter beside Steve. "There you go, _bro."_

"Thanks! So, Lonnie," Steve began, seemingly oblivious to the tension radiating from Lonnie's corner of the room. "While we were setting the table a minute ago, I was quizzing Laura about her job. She mentioned she doesn't support the death penalty. Don't you think that's a little unusual coming from a prosecutor?"

Lonnie shrugged non-committally, wondering where in the world this particular line of conversation had come from, and why Steve was bringing it up now. "What can I say? She's a puzzle."

Laura looked at him, a wry smile tipping up one corner of her mouth and causing tiny creases to appear around her eyes the way they did only when she was truly amused. "Smartass," she said as she giggled.

He watched as she bent to retrieve a colander from the cabinet and place it in the sink before lifting the pot from the stove and crossing back to drain the noodles.

"Frankly, I've argued both sides of the issue, Steve," she said.

She raised her voice above the hissing sounds of boiling water escaping down the drain and blinked through the rising steam. "A few days ago I had a conversation with a girl I grew up with. We both love to talk politics, but have grown farther and farther apart in our beliefs as we've gotten older. She told me, 'The older I get, and the closer I get to my faith, the more I believe in the death penalty.'"

Laura stood up on tiptoe to grab a serving bowl down from its perch on a top shelf before continuing. "But I find that the older _I _get, and the closer I get to my faith, the more I oppose state-sanctioned execution. I keeping hearing 'Vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord' in my head every time the issue comes up these days."

"Don't you think that's going to get in your way, politically speaking?" Steve asked as he added his zucchini to the salad sitting next to the sink.

Lonnie noted with extreme displeasure that Steve was now standing so close to Laura that their hips were lightly touching. Lonnie clenched his beer bottle tighter, raised it to lips and took another long swig.

"No," she said, emptying the pasta into the bowl and crossing toward the breakfast table where her sauce sat marinating in another dish. "I'm not the DA. I was _hired._ I didn't have to be elected into my job."

Steve bent down to open the oven door and remove a loaf of crusty Italian bread. Lonnie found himself wondering where in the world Steve had learned his way around a kitchen.

"But the word I heard around town this afternoon is that it's only a matter of time. The grapevine has it that DA Darnelle has his eye on higher office, and _you're_ the heiress apparent," Steve commented.

"Well," Laura blushed modestly, "it's a little too early to tell about that yet. Darnelle may have his cap set for higher office, but he hasn't run yet. And the other Chief ADA at the office has definitely got his sights set on the DA's seat. He'd be pretty stiff competition if we decided to run against each other."

"Does he support the death penalty?" Steve questioned.

Laura nodded as she tossed her pasta in the aromatic sauce and poured the entrée back into the serving dish. She sprinkled grated cheese over the whole lot, and tossed again.

"Well, don't you think you'll need to shift your viewpoint a bit if you want to move up?"

Lonnie watched as Laura turned to face Steve. "I don't think it's about shifting my own beliefs to suit whatever the electorate thinks is the best idea on any particular day," she said, her annoyance clear in both her tone and expression.

Lonnie relished the passion that flared her eyes when she talked about an issue she cared about. He loved the fire in her expression and voice when she took a stand, and particularly enjoyed watching her take said stand against his brother.

"If that's what I have to do in order to win an election, then I'm content to look elsewhere for employment," Laura continued. "There are certain moral compromises I'm just not willing to make."

She walked into the dining room, set the pasta bowl on the table, and crossed back into the kitchen for the bread basket before seeking to change the topic of conversation. "Besides, I'm not sure this is appropriate dinner-time conversation. Only in the home of a cop and a prosecutor, I suppose," she shrugged, smiling tightly at both of them. "Your brother and I have agreed to disagree on this issue, Steve," she finished.

Lonnie watched as Laura moved back toward the stove, checking to make sure the burners and oven had all been turned off. Steve moved behind her, squeezing her shoulders in a way that made Lonnie's skin itch with the urge to protect his wife from the unfamiliar touch.

"Top-notch prosecutor, gourmet chef, and gracious hostess," Steve said unctuously, kissing Laura on the cheek before grabbing the salad bowl and starting toward the dining room. "You're a lucky man, Lonnie."

The site of Steve's lips on Laura's cheek, his hands on her shoulders far too intimately, set Lonnie's teeth on edge. As Steve moved toward the dining room, Lonnie stepped between his brother and his wife, curling one arm possessively around Laura's waist.

"You're right. I am a lucky man," he said, sending his best _'Back off,_ _asshole'_ glare at Steve over the top of Laura's head. "Why don't you sit down, honey?" he suggested. "I'll get the wine."

Laura shot him a bemused look, but crossed into the dining room without question or comment. From the other room, Steve laughed appreciatively at some comment Lonnie hadn't overheard.

_'It's gonna be a long night,'_ Lonnie thought.

$BREAK$

Steve drove his favorite possession – a sleek, black 911 Turbo cabriolet - away from his brother's house, giddy with wine and good company and the promise he'd drawn from the night's developments. Lonnie was still playing it cool, but Steve was convinced that he'd be able to get Laura on his side, and after that happened, it was only a matter of time until Lonnie followed suit.

As he drove toward his lonely motel room, he found himself filled with an overwhelming urge to celebrate his good fortune. Turning up the radio dial, he felt his blood surge with the familiar rush of adrenaline he always savored when he was in control of the game. When his life had come crashing down around him in Charleston, he'd wondered if he'd be able to pick up the pieces. At the moment, however, they all seemed to be falling right back into place, leaving him confident that everything would go according to plan.

Sparta had always been too quiet for Steve's tastes – too sleepy. He craved the energy and excitement of a big city, not the quiet, darkened residential streets he saw before him. He decided he didn't feel like sleeping at the moment, and headed toward the part of town in which he knew he'd be able to find some sort of entertainment. Maybe Mason's Dixieline still offered some sort of fun. It was early yet – no need to rush to bed. At least not alone.

$BREAK$

Lonnie plopped heavily down on the side of the bed, momentarily too tired to feel anything other than a vague numbness. It had indeed been a long night. Steve had lingered until nearly 11:30 – after dinner there had been dessert, then coffee, and what seemed interminable chatter between Laura and Steve.

Something he couldn't quite put his finger on suggested Steve was up to something; but Lonnie had to admit that Steve had been trying awfully hard to work his way into the good graces of the two-member Jamison family. Steve seemed not to worry about Lonnie's surliness, but had instead tried all evening to draw him out in conversation. When Lonnie finally loosened up enough to join in, he'd even found himself laughing at Steve's jokes and spot-on impressions.

From the time they were children, Steve had always been a showstopper, a trait he shared with Lonnie's wife, if Lonnie admitted the truth to himself. Never one to jump to entertain others himself, he'd always gotten a kick out his brother's comedic antics, and now got the same kick out of Laura's unguarded moments. Watching the two of them together had been more fun than he wanted to admit.

Lonnie leaned his elbows against his thighs, tiredly pushing a hand through his hair. Behind him, the bathroom door gently squeaked open on old hinges, and his wife's bare feet whispered across the rug. Silently she climbed into the bed, and he thought she'd curled up on her side until he felt her soft, silk-clad body slide into place behind him.

Lonnie sighed and sat up a bit straighter as one long, smooth leg wrapped around his left side. Her right arm slipped around his rib cage as her left hand began to gently knead the tight muscles in his back.

"Hi," she whispered. She was so close that her warm breath caressed his ear as satiny strands of her hair teased his right shoulder.

Lonnie's next sigh released more than exhaustion as he felt the knots in his upper back and shoulders start to relax under her gentle ministrations. His breath caught in his throat as she trailed tiny, sensuous kisses across his shoulder blades.

"Are you mad?" she asked in a small voice as she continued to massage the tension from his muscles.

He let his head fall forward, and she obligingly moved her hand up to work out the knots in his neck.

"No," he answered truthfully. "Just tired."

"I'm not sure what I think yet," she persisted, "but I think he might really be trying to work his way onto your good side."

"It'll be a while before part of me doesn't wonder if he's up to somethin'," Lonnie confessed, growing drowsier by the minute as his wife's fingers worked the remaining stiffness out of his neck and shoulders.

"Honey," she said softly as she shifted her hands and went to work on the right side of his back. "I know there's a lot about your childhood you don't dwell on much..." She hesitated, and Lonnie twisted his neck around to glance at her over his shoulder.

"But," he prompted, raising her right hand from his ribs to his lips and placing a series of gentle kisses on her knuckles.

He felt her sigh behind him before she slid both arms around his waist to hug him against her chest. When she spoke her voice was barely above a whisper and her soft breath played across his bare skin. "You know I only want what's best for you, right? I'm sorry if I pushed too hard or too soon tonight. I just wanted to help."

Lonnie thought of her warm heart, her soft touches, and her smooth skin as all thoughts of sleep, the day, and his brother evaporated from his mind. With one fluid motion Lonnie turned, scooping her left hip against his body and pulling her underneath him. He stretched his long legs out to snuggle next to her on top of their comforter.

"You know what I want?" he asked as he trailed teasing kisses from her temple to her chin, continuing under her jaw line and down her elegant neck.

Her sharp intake of breath was unmistakable as she raised her left hand to twine her fingers in his hair. "No. What?"

"I don't want to talk about my brother any more tonight," he said, raising a hand to click off the bedside lamp.

In the darkness, she pressed her soft curves into the straighter planes of his body. "Neither do I."

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

Parker stuffed a greasy onion ring in his mouth and sighed contentedly. He loved everything about Fat Eddie's – particularly the fact that not a single thing on the menu qualified as "heart-healthy." He also loved the feeling that this snug, familiar place was the true beating heart of Sparta – everyone ate at Fat Eddie's from time to time, which meant that anything worth knowing was going to be discussed at one of Fat Eddie's tables sooner or later. Parker made it a point to come to this place at least twice a week. It was the best way to know what was going on in his home town.

As a police officer, and as a citizen, Parker thought it was important to stay informed – part of his civic duty, so to speak. If you knew people, as Parker did – or if you knew when to be quiet and pretend to enjoy your barbecue to the exclusion of all else – you could learn a lot at Fat Eddie's. At the moment, Parker was learning a lot about people he thought he already knew pretty well. As he licked barbecue sauce off his finger tips, Parker carefully watched the expressions of his lunch mates.

From Bubba, Parker saw a look of happiness and contentment – more so than Parker had ever seen before. _'Marriage agrees with him,'_ he thought with pride. Parker often saw a similar look on Austin's face when her gaze met her husband's, and Parker wanted nothing more in the world than his little sister's happiness. He always wanted good things for the people who were important to him, but Austin held a special place in his heart. Parker also liked that Austin had married Bubba because that was about the only thing that would have kept her in Sparta long-term. Parker definitely wanted his little sister to stay close so that he could keep an eye on her.

From Sweet, Parker detected an air of careful observation. Parker had seen that look before, but not usually directed at people within their own professional or social circles. Something was dampening Sweet's usual air of casual joviality. He surreptitiously followed Sweet's gaze to the observed.

Something was making Lonnie Jamison uneasy, but Parker wasn't entirely sure what. He wondered if Lonnie had heard the same things that he had about Steve. Parker knew that Austin had no use for Steve Jamison, but the last time Parker had seen Laura, he'd mentioned Steve and she hadn't seemed troubled, so there may not be anything to the rumors floating around town. Still, _something_ was going on that was getting through Lonnie's famous poker face, so whatever it was, it was big.

Knowing how Lonnie would react to prying, Parker decided to pry anyway. "So, Lonnie, how long's your brother gonna be in town?"

Lonnie shrugged noncommittally and spoke around an onion ring. "Don't know, Parker. Didn't ask him."

"Rumor I heard is he's back for good." Parker smiled, "At least for a while."

Bubba rolled his eyes. "You know what your trouble is, boy?" He continued without waiting for a reply. "You just don't make no sense."

Sweet was the only one who seemed to be interested in what Parker had to say, finally pulling his dark eyes off Lonnie. "Where you'd hear that, Parker?"

"From Mrs. Robinson over at the library."

Lonnie snorted. "What were _you_ doin' at the library?"

Parker shot his friend a disapproving look. "What do folks _usually_ go to a library for?"

Lonnie gave him the same flat, expressionless look that always unnerved him. "You mean you read?" Lonnie deadpanned.

Parker was beginning to take genuine offense at Lonnie's sardonic attitude. "More than you might think, smart guy."

Bubba put his buffalo wing down and held up sauced-tipped fingers. "Hey, now..."

Parker refused to be deterred. "Anyway, I hear your little brother is lookin' for a place to settle down. Do you think he'll hang around?"

"More like he's lookin' for an inheritance," Lonnie mumbled under his breath.

Before Parker could say anything, Sweet's head shot up in surprise, but it was Bubba who spoke first. "Do you really think that's what this is all about? Your Aunt Cordelia's estate?"

An unusual flush crept across Lonnie's cheeks, and he seemed desperate to change the subject. He gruffly removed the napkin from his collar and wiped his mouth, then pulled some cash from his shirt pocket. "Look, I don't know. I probably shouldn't have said that. Just forget it. Sweet, are you ready to go?"

Parker watched Sweet's eyebrows shoot skyward in amazement. They both swapped glances with Bubba.

"Yes, sir," Sweet said as he stood and tossed down some cash. He snatched a handful of onion rings from his plate and followed Lonnie out the door.

Bubba turned sharp eyes toward Parker. "Now why did you go and do that?"

Parker did his best to give his brother-in-law his 'innocent' face. "What?"

Bubba's expression made it clear that he wasn't having any of it. "Bring up Lonnie's brother. You know how squirrelly he gets about his kinfolk."

Parker shrugged sheepishly under the weight of Bubba's glare. "Oh, Bubba, I wasn't tryin' to start nothin', it's just that no one in town seems to know anything about what Steve's been doin' since he left Sparta. Don't that seem a bit odd to you?"

"I thought Lonnie said Steve was in the import/export business?"

"Yeah but what does that _mean?"_

Bubba sighed tiredly. "It means to ship _in_ some things, and ship _out_ other things. Honestly..."

Parker gave his brother-in-law a dirty look. "Well if it's that simple, then why has he given at least three different answers around town to the same question?"

Bubba ducked his chin as one eyebrow shot skyward. "Say what?"

Parker let a smug smile spread across his face. "I thought that'd get your attention. Steve told Milfred Landry over at The Jewelers' Emporium that he'd spent the last ten years in the diamond business. Then he told Evan Mercer – who tends bar up at the McGuffie House every other Tuesday and Thursday – that his business was buyin' and sellin' luxury cars. And he told old Beau at Mason's Dixieline that he made his money importin' antiques from Europe," Parker finished with satisfaction.

Bubba considered carefully for a minute, quirked his eyebrows again, and sighed. "You're right, it don't seem to add up. But Parker, isn't it possible that all those things can be part of a large import/export business?"

Parker drew himself up a little straighter, very pleased that for once; he seemed to know more about a situation than his know-it-all brother-in-law. "Then why didn't he just say so?"

Bubba's expression froze for a long moment as he thought. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet and very serious. "That's a pretty serious accusation you're makin' – against Lonnie's _brother._"

Parker nodded, his tone dropping to match Bubba's intensity. "I know, but think about what Lonnie said just a minute ago. I'm not the only one havin' doubts about what Steve's really doin' here in Sparta."

Bubba nodded in reply.

"And don't you think we owe it to Lonnie to get to the bottom of this one way or another?" Parker pressed.

"Don't you think it's possible that Lonnie will want to do his own diggin'?"

"Yeah, but you and I both know he'll do what he always does with his kin folk – ignore the situation until he just can't anymore, and if Steve's got a mind to cause some sort of trouble in Sparta, it might be too late by the time Lonnie finally gets into it."

Bubba nodded begrudgingly. "You've got a point, Parker. I hate to admit it, but you _do_ have a point."

Parker sat back and smiled. "Well, it _does_ happen from time to time."

Bubba rolled his eyes in mock disgust. "Oh, come on, knothead. If we're gonna _do_ this, let's get on with it."

$BREAK$

Lonnie let his car roll to a halt in the driveway, set the parking brake, and cut the engine. Exhaustion pulled heavily at his limbs and eyelids, a phenomenon that had become more common since the shooting that nearly cost him his life. No matter how hard he worked out, or how careful he was, it was harder to maintain his energy level now. A good night's rest nearly always left him feeling good-as-new the following morning; but his stamina had not returned to previous levels. He was beginning to wonder if it ever would.

He took a moment to let his eyelids fall closed, resting briefly before he went into the house. What had happened was in the past, and he was determined to keep it there. Over and done with. No going back. He simply wouldn't have it any other way, and he refused – no matter how tired he felt or how much he secretly wondered if he pushed himself too hard – to let that teenager's bullet keep him from doing exactly as he pleased with his life.

Lonnie knew that the worst thing he could do when he was feeling this weary was let Laura see the exhaustion on his face. His wife tended to be overprotective, and he knew she fought to conceal her distress from him as much as he fought to keep her from brooding over his health. Lonnie laughed to himself, a wry smile twisting its way across his mouth. He supposed it was fairly absurd the way each of them tried to keep the other from worrying – they were worrywarts by nature, the both of them – and knew each other so well that it was nearly impossible for either of them to keep any thought secret for long.

A boisterous laugh startled him from his brief repose, his eyes flying open as he looked around. The voice sounded like it belonged to Laura, and seemed to come from behind the house. He knew she often spent quiet moments on the screened-in porch that overlooked the backyard, but had no idea what amused her so heartily. Climbing out of the Corvette's low-slung driver's seat, Lonnie made his way around the side of the house.

Before he rounded the corner into the backyard, Laura's bright laughter reached his ears again, this time joined by the quieter rumble of a man's voice. Lonnie frowned. Steve was here – _again._ _'Does he ever go anywhere else these days?'_ That made twice in the past week Lonnie had come home to find his brother _"keeping Laura company."_ The last time Steve showed up he invited himself to another impromptu dinner party that lasted well past midnight. _'Doesn't he still know anyone else in this town?'_ Lonnie wondered irritably.

"I can't believe he did that, Steve. I refuse," Laura giggled.

Before Steve could respond, Sampson noticed Lonnie rounding the corner of the house and rose to give a warning bark. Delilah raised her head from her bowl to investigate; but, recognizing Lonnie, simply gave a welcoming wag of her tail before returning to her dinner. Sampson – the more social of the two – trotted over to the edge of the fence to greet Lonnie.

"Hey there, boy," Lonnie said as he scratched the Shepherd behind the ears. "You can't believe who did what?" he asked in the direction of the porch.

"Hi, honey," Laura greeted as she continued to giggle. She rose to open the screen door for him, lightly kissing him on the cheek before returning to her favorite spot on the porch swing. Clad in a broken-in pair of jeans and one of Lonnie's old button-downs, she looked relaxed and happy – a look that always brought a smile to his face. It didn't often happen that they were both home at a decent hour, and Lonnie knew that Laura guarded such moments as fiercely as he did, so he was a bit surprised that she seemed so comfortable with Steve's increasingly regular presence.

"Your brother's been tellin' tales," Laura said as she swapped a conspiratorial glance with Steve.

Lonnie threw a warning look in Steve's direction as the younger man nonchalantly crossed an ankle over his knee and leaned back comfortably in the wicker chair.

"What?" Steve asked innocently. "Laura's not from here, so she didn't know you back when. I think every woman has a right to know what kind of child her husband used to be. This could be useful information if you guys ever have kids. You know, in case any of them turn out as wild as you were."

Lonnie glowered at both of them as Laura erupted in a fresh burst of laughter and Steve favored them both with his best Cheshire Cat grin.

"Now wait a minute," Lonnie began, determined to convince them both that this was not nearly as funny as they obviously thought it was. "Just because a guy got into a _little_ trouble during his teenage years doesn't mean that _anybody_ gets to hold it against him forever – especially you, you little twerp," Lonnie finished with an icy glare in Steve's direction.

Laura held up a hand to both of them as if to stave off a genuine argument. "Stay in your corners, please." The amused light in her eyes and her relaxed posture belied the seriousness in her voice as she looked at them both. "Now, hon, Paul's already told you about all of my youthful misadventures, and you don't love me any less, right?"

Lonnie nodded somewhat reluctantly, but winked at her as Steve laughed.

"Besides," Laura continued, "I have to say that rigging the high school's PA system to make farting noises every time the principal tried to make an announcement was fairly ingenious. I mean, I've always known you're brilliant, but I didn't know you were so electronically inclined. If you can do all of that, why can't you program the VCR?"

Lonnie felt his cheeks color a bit at the memory, and the impossibly broad smile stretching across her face. He could tell that this story was going to be around for a while. "I can't believe you told her about that, Steve."

His brother held up both hands and shrugged his shoulders in a _'Who me?' _gesture. "Hey, I'm not the one who _did_ it. I'm merely reporting."

"Remind me to give you somethin' to report when the lady's not around," Lonnie told him quietly.

"You'd have to catch me first, and I think we both know you're not that fast," Steve shot back.

"Girls," Laura interrupted, this time her tone brooking no nonsense. "You're both pretty. Now..." she stopped as her beeper started to vibrate from its spot on the tiny wicker side table. "Oh, you've got to be kidding."

Lonnie watched her check the number and roll her eyes heavenward. "What is it?" he asked.

She shrugged her shoulders as she stood, her bare feet silent against the porch's old wood floor as she started toward her home office. "No clue. There wasn't anything goin' on when I left a little while ago." She paused at the back door. "Do you want something cool to drink, hon?"

He nodded. "Yeah, that'd be nice. Thanks."

Steve sighed and stretched as Laura disappeared inside. "This is a nice spot you've got here, Lonnie. A cozy house, a lovely wife, an established career. You seem to have it all figured out. It's still a little amazing to me to see you so grown up and settled."

"Well," Lonnie said as he shrugged his shoulders. "You've been gone an awfully long time. People change." He worked to keep the note of accusation out of his voice.

A moment of semi-uneasy silence stretched between them, and perhaps for the first time Lonnie was aware of the active role his wife had taken in his relationship with his younger brother over the past couple of weeks. It was somewhat odd to Lonnie that a woman who hadn't grown up in Sparta and didn't know either of them during their childhoods had become the arbiter of any and all discussions between himself and his brother. He wasn't sure where to start on his own without her direction.

Steve looked like he was about to say something else, but Lonnie's attention was diverted as Laura reappeared through the screen door with her cordless phone pinched between her shoulder and her ear. One hand held open the screen door and the other clutched a tall glass of iced tea. She crossed the porch and handed him the glass before turning back toward the house.

"Yeah," she said. "Okay." She paused for a moment with one hand on the screen door as if struggling to hear what someone else was saying. "Okay. Just give me a minute to fire up the computer and then I'll dial in."

Lonnie watched with growing concern as she ended the call. "What's up?" he asked.

She shook her head and blew a few stray wisps of hair off her forehead. "Oh it's nothing to worry about. Darnelle just pulled me into a conference call with people in several different counties. Not as easy a thing as it should be to organize, as it turns out. Campaign stuff. Unfortunately he's convinced the whole house of cards is going to come crashing down around him if we don't hash out whatever's on his mind right this minute. He swears it can't wait until tomorrow, and wants me to dial in from the sun porch."

Steve sat up. "So he _is_ going to run. I knew it!"

Laura grinned at him. "Yeah, he's gonna run. And if I have anything to say about it, he's going to win, too." She winked at Steve before turning her blue gaze to her husband. "I'm sorry."

"Just remember your humble friends when your candidate's elected governor," he kidded her gently.

"Yeah, yeah," she said. It was a familiar joke between them. She disappeared into the house without further comment.

Lonnie looked over to see his brother giving him a somewhat confused look. "What's The Sun Porch? She has to go out to join a conference call?"

Lonnie grinned and shook his head. "No. We closed in a side porch that she uses as a home office. She's got a laptop, a fax machine, a dedicated phone line, and all sorts of bells and whistles. To tell you the truth, I'm not really sure what-all she has in there."

"Oh," Steve answered. A moment of relative quiet stretched between them, the approaching darkness and the sound of cicadas closing in to surround them. Steve's sharp hazel eyes focused on Lonnie, prompting him to meet the younger man's stare.

"What?"

"Well, it's really none of my business," Steve began with uncharacteristic hesitancy.

"And that's stopped you when?" Lonnie challenged.

"There's only one thing missing here." Steve began before pausing again.

Lonnie knew he'd regret asking the question as it left his mouth. "What?"

"Kids."

Lonnie flinched, automatically thinking back to the last time this sensitive issue had come up between himself and his wife. "Look, man..." he began.

"What? You have something against children?" Steve's gaze was frank.

"What are you tryin' to do here, exactly?" Lonnie demanded, this time making no attempt whatsoever to hide the accusation in his voice.

"I'm not _trying_ to do anything, I'm just asking," Steve insisted with an air of wounded dignity. "Of the two of us, _you're_ the one with the perfect little domestic life, and I'm the one who's rooted only to being..._rootless._ I mean, I don't own a _house_. I nearly had a heart attack when I bought my car. Signing on the dotted line for the 911 was the biggest thing I'd ever done. The mere _thought_ of signing for a mortgage? Terrifies me. I've never met a girl I wanted to date longer than a few weeks, let alone _marry_. So, I guess I'm just curious."

"Steve," Lonnie said, shaking his head incredulously. "It's just a house. It's not that big a deal."

"And getting married? That wasn't a big deal?"

"Sure it was, but I waited until I was ready, and that made all the difference. I waited for the right woman, and even though I didn't think I'd ever get married before I met her, once I got to know her, a lot of my decisions got easier." For reasons Lonnie neither understood nor fully believed, the mantle of _'Wise Older Brother Counseling the Prodigal'_ was a natural fit for his shoulders. Something told him that particular realization would bug him later.

"Then why no kids? Isn't that what comes next?"

Lonnie leaned forward and ran a hand through his hair as a familiar mix of sadness, frustration and uncertainty washed through him. "It's more complicated than that. You weren't here. You don't know."

"Then tell me, because I have to be honest with you, it doesn't make a heck of a lot of sense as I see it. She's a beautiful, warm, nurturing woman, who seems like a natural mother. I don't know why you'd have a wife like that and not have kids."

The smugness in Steve's voice prompted Lonnie to drop any remaining pretense that this was going to continue as a civil conversation. "Frankly, I resent the fact that you haven't set foot in Sparta in nearly two decades and suddenly you show up and presume to tell me what to do with _my_ life. Who the hell do you think you are questionin' the choices I've made? You don't even _know_ me. Or her."

To Lonnie's supreme irritation, Steve watched him as though seeing him for the first time throughout the uncharacteristically wordy tirade. "Lonnie, man, seriously," Steve said in a carefully controlled tone. "I can't believe you're this upset about it. Are you telling me that neither of you wants to have children? Because like I said, from where I'm sitting, it seems like the next logical step, that's all." He paused, but Lonnie knew that Steve had more to say, so he remained silent. "How much of this has to do with you guys and how much of it has to do with Mom?" Steve asked.

"Why are you goin' there, Steve? What exactly is it you're tryin' to do?"

"You want the truth?"

Lonnie leveled an expression toward his brother that usually stopped even cold-blooded murderers in their tracks. "Yeah," he said – his voice quiet and deadly serious. "And I suggest you get started, 'cause I'm tired of this little game."

Whether it was sincere or supreme acting, Lonnie wasn't sure, but Steve seemed suitably chagrined when he continued in a halting voice. "I wanna know because..._you made it._ And I don't know that I expected either of us to be able to say that."

Lonnie watched as Steve hesitantly raised eyes again, and was a bit taken aback by the sincere gaze that met his. "You remember what Mom was like, and how awful it was to live at our house. It was like livin' in a funeral parlor after Dad died. We were both runnin' so fast to get the hell out of there; it didn't seem possible that either of us would ever want to do the family thing. And yet here you are – _almost_."

Lonnie watched in silence as his brother struggled for words, the realization only slowly dawning on him that Steve was perhaps more screwed up by their upbringing than he had been.

"Okay, look, no B.S." Steve pressed. "Part of me thinks that if you can do it – get past what we grew up with and make a family for yourself – I can too. _Maybe._ But I don't _know_. If you don't like kids, or don't want 'em, then maybe I was right not to..." Steve paused and shrugged his shoulders before throwing up a hand and sighing in frustration. "I don't know. Look, forget it. Sorry."

For a long moment, tension hung in the heavy summer air between them. Finally, Lonnie took a deep breath and plunged in. "Like I said; it's complicated. We'd always talked about havin' kids, just _someday._ You know, any day but this one. But last year I got shot, and...I don't know; now all of a sudden she wants kids _tomorrow_, and I'm hesitatin'. It used to be mostly her puttin' the brakes on, but now it's all _me_."

Steve sat up straight and his eyes widened in shock. "You what! What happened?"

Lonnie sighed. "It's a long story, never mind about that. The point is, I got hurt pretty bad, and almost died. And because I _do_ remember what Mama went through, the last thing I wanna do is leave Laura in Mama's situation if anything ever does happen to me. Like I said, it's not her draggin' her feet, it's me."

Steve sat for a moment with a stunned expression on his face. "I can't believe I didn't know about that."

"Once again..." Lonnie began.

"Yeah, I know, I know," Steve interrupted. "Totally my fault. I'm sorry." Steve's expression changed before he spoke again, though Lonnie wasn't sure what prompted his apparent change of thought. After a long pause, Steve continued. "The more I think about it, though, there's one thing that occurs to me."

Lonnie rolled his eyes. "I can't wait to hear it."

"Mama lived for Daddy. And for her, the only thing that kept her going after he died was the two of us. I don't think she'd've lived half as long as she did if it hadn't been for her kids. If it hadn't been for you and me."

Lonnie snorted derisively. "Don't you remember the temper? And the drinkin'? The cryin' jags that lasted all night?"

"Yeah, I do," Steve insisted. "And I also remember that the only times she ever smiled were when one of us did something good. When you made the all-state track team. When my ACT scores came back so much higher than she expected. That was right before she died - it might have been the last time I saw her smile."

As Steve talked about their mother, Lonnie saw a wistful, somewhat softer expression settle on his brother's face. He felt the same way about his mother – it hadn't always been the easiest relationship, but he thought of her in some small way nearly every day – almost twenty years after her passing.

For long moments he sat there with Steve, as the lush summer twilight and a new, easier silence enveloped them. Whatever they were now, and however they got there, and no matter what the future held for them, he and Steve had shared experiences that neither of them could ever share with another living being. Lonnie wasn't sure he'd ever quite looked at it that way, but when he looked at his brother across the porch, he saw _history_ for the first time.

Lonnie also knew that there were no simple answers in life, and in all honesty he _wanted_ children of his own, but he was still a bit leery of the potential complications that kids would add to his life. Were he and Laura really ready to forgo their quiet, lazy evenings at home for homework sessions and soccer practice and ballet lessons? For that matter, were they willing to quit putting in sixty-plus hours per week on the job to come on home and take care of children? Did he ever want to appear _anywhere_ in public in a _minivan?_

Lonnie laughed at his last thought and shook his head as he shoved the more serious feelings he was experiencing aside. Oddly enough in this moment of newly-discovered closeness with his brother, the person he most wanted to talk all this over with wasn't here at the moment. So he did his best to laugh it off. "I just don't know, man," he admitted. "But I hear you. I think. Thanks."

Before his brother had a chance to speak, Lonnie stood and gave another mental shove to the sentimentality that had been creeping up on him over the last few minutes. "Come on," Lonnie told him. "Let's go see if she's done yet. I'm starvin'."

Lonnie led his brother through the back door and across the cozy kitchen to the tiny sun porch on the far side of the house. As they entered, Laura hit the mute button and turned toward them. "This could take hours. We've gone from a proposed gubernatorial campaign to a race for the White House and electoral math. I mean, I admire big thinking, but _please."_

Lonnie grinned at the dramatic eye roll that followed her little diatribe and crossed the room to stand behind her computer chair. "Are you hungry? If you want I can go out and pick somethin' up."

"Thank you, but I don't want anything." She looked up at him with a pitiful expression. "I'm sorry, honey. I was going to cook you a nice dinner tonight. I know you're having kind of a long week."

"It's okay, don't worry about it," he told her, giving her shoulder a squeeze to reinforce his point. "I'll do somethin' else."

Steve piped up brightly from the doorway. "Let's go out for a beer."

Lonnie turned toward his brother, but not before he saw his wife's face light up at the idea.

"That sounds like a great idea," she enthused.

Lonnie thought briefly about turning down Steve's invitation, but decided spending some more time with Steve might give him some insight into his brother's life that he was only starting to glimpse. "Sure."

"Just don't pick up any wild women," Laura admonished them with mock sternness as they headed for the door.

Lonnie grinned back at her over his shoulder. "You kiddin'? I've got enough trouble with the one I got."

$BREAK$

Bubba had long since tuned out the conversation his wife was having in the next room. When he heard the click of the handset returning to the cradle, he snapped off the television and got up to join her in her office.

It had been more than a year since he'd thought of this room as the dining room it was intended to be. They didn't entertain much at home so it was just as well Austin had taken it over.

As he entered the make-shift office, he stepped around Austin's laptop case, a stack of leather-bound law books, and a pile of their daughter's toys to approach his wife. She seemed lost in thought, absently tapping her short fingernails against the edge of her keyboard as she stared off into one corner of the room.

"You look about a million miles away, honey," he told her as he rested a hip against the table top.

Austin looked up at him, a small smile lighting her blue eyes. "You'll never believe what Laura said as we were wrappin' up," she said incredulously.

"What?" Bubba asked, concerned at the expression clouding her beautiful face. "Is everythin' okay?"

"She said that Lonnie and Steve went out on the town – _together."_

Bubba laughed. "You _really_ don't like him, do you?"

"No, I don't." Her tone was emphatic. "Are you saying you do?"

Bubba scratched his chin, thinking back to the conversation he'd had just that afternoon with Parker and deciding how much he should tell Austin at this very early point in their very unofficial investigation. They hadn't even told Chief Forbes yet what they were up to. "Well, I can't say that I've spent that much time around him. What's botherin' you, hon?"

"I'm not sure," she shrugged. "I just know that I don't trust him. Something about him makes my skin crawl."

"You know, Parker said pretty much the same thing this afternoon," Bubba told her, making the decision to let her in on at least the broad scope of what they were trying to do. "We're gonna do some quiet checkin' around."

Austin's expression brightened as relief flooded her features. "I think that's the best idea I've heard all day."

"I'm not sure Lonnie trusts him all that much either," Bubba admitted, "but he sure don't wanna talk about it." He cocked his head to one side as a new thought occurred to him. "What does Laura say?"

Austin bit her lip as she looked up at him through thick lashes. He could tell she hated to say what was on her mind. "To be honest, Bubba, I think her judgment may be a little clouded in this case. She wants so much for Lonnie to have the chance to reconnect with his brother that I'm not sure she's lookin' for red flags. Or even seein' 'em when they jump up and wave themselves at her."

Bubba always hated to see a troubled look on his wife's face. Not knowing what the truth was to tell her, he decided distraction was probably his best bet in this situation. "Look, darlin'," Bubba said as he pulled her to her feet and wrapped his arms around her waist. "I don't want you to worry about it. If there's anything to find, we'll find it, and we'll deal with it. Okay?"

"Okay," she answered, but he could tell from her expression that she wasn't entirely ready to let the issue drop.

Bubba searched for a way to put her mind on happier thoughts. "Why don't we go out for supper?" Nothing perked Austin up quicker than the thought of a meal that someone else prepared and cleaned up after. "We'll go anywhere you wanna go."

Austin grinned up at him. "Sounds great. Let me go find my shoes and get Dallas ready."

He let her go, watching as he always did as she sauntered across the room. There was more _sashay_ on that woman...shaking his head to distract himself, he said the first thing that came to his mind that he thought might bring a smile this wife's face. "If the boys're out, wanna invite Laura to come with us?"

She grinned over her shoulder at him before disappearing from sight. Her voice drifted back to him from the hallway. "I already asked. She said she's going to take advantage of the quiet and go to bed early."

TBC


End file.
